Louisville Slugger
by See Jane Conform
Summary: BtVS/WWE - Willow house sits for a certain yummy wrestler, chaos ensues.
1. In Which An Offer Is Made

Title: Louisville Slugger

Author: See Jane Conform

E-mail: seejaneconform@msn.com

Category: BtVS/WWE 

Pairing: Willow/Matt Hardy 

Disclaimer: I don't own or have any affiliation with BtVS or the WWE. This is being written for the sole purpose of enjoyment and I am in no way making a profit from it. 

Rating: This is a hard one since I'm not actually done with the story, but I'm going for a strong PG-13 as it deals with some adult situations and there **might** be some language in it. If the rating looks to change at any time I'll clearly make note of it.

Spoilers: None really for the WWE as it's not taking too much part in it, for BtVS it's up to season 6. I watched the episodes all out of order so I'm not too sure how far into this takes place. Like, you know the episode with Buffy's birthday party? Anything up to there is fair game. 

Summary: Willow gets an interesting job proposition… as if that told you anything. I'll try again… Willow's house sitting for a certain yummy male wrestler and chaos ensues.

Notes: Inspired by y'all wwe/btvs crossover pioneers that have gone before me. There really isn't much of… well, anything in this part but don't get too discouraged. It's kind of boring but needed to set up the plot, the next few installments should prove more interesting.

Chapter One: Part I

"So Faith, want to come clubbing with me tonight?" 

Cordelia figured it had been sufficient time for the recent parolee to readjust to life in the free world and she was anxious to have a single friend to party with again. True, the friend –_and wasn't friend a bit strong of a word?_- in question used to be an evil skanky ho, but she served her time. Besides, the seer was desperate. The more involved with Angel Investigations she had become, the more her involvement with normal people tapered off. It was hard to form or even keep up relationships with the odd schedule she worked.

"Nah, that's cool but I think I'm just going to chill here tonight." 

"Color me surprised," she said under her breath. 

Ever since Faith had been released, it was always '_Angel this_' or '_Angel that_'. She knew what '_chill here tonight_' really meant. It roughly translated into '_I'm planning on staying up all night with Angel talking about redemption and salvation and a bunch of other really pretentious words._' Fine, Faith just made the decision for her on the matter she had been debating for the better part of the week. "Oh well, I'm sure Willow will want to party with me when she comes to visit."

Three heads popped up at the casual remark, but Angel was the first to question it. 

"Willow's coming to visit?"

"That's what I said wasn't it?" Cordelia couldn't help her snide tone even though she knew she shouldn't be upset at him. It wasn't Angel's fault he had so much in common with the brunette slayer. 

"Red's coming? Does she know about me? You know, that I'm out and all." Faith kept her voice casual, despite her keen interest in the answer to her question. She wasn't sure she was ready to face any of the 'scooby gang' yet. 

"Not yet."

"Well when is she due to arrive?" The former-watcher was the last to comment on Cordelia's surprise announcement.

"I'm not sure."

"How long is she staying?" 

"I don't know."

"Do you know why she's coming?"

"Do you really need a reason to leave the hellmouth?" she shot back, annoyed at being forced to play twenty questions.

"Well what exactly _did_ she say?"

"She didn't exactly _say_ anything." 

"Cordelia…" Angel used his best_ I-may-not-be-your-father-but-I-can-still-take-you-over-my-knee_ tone of voice and combined with his perfected _you're-not-going-anywhere-until-you-tell-the-truth-the-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-the-truth-so-start-spilling_ glare, she crumbled quickly.

"Ok, I haven't actually talked to her about it yet but that doesn't matter. She's still coming. I mean, if what we've heard is half the stuff going on down there, she needs a break. Besides, what girl would turn down a chance to visit LA while getting paid to stay in a gorgeous house?" At their blank looks she continued on. "You guys never do listen to me do you? Y'all aren't the only ones with connections. I happen to know someone –I really can't name names- who's looking for someone to house sit for one of his clients."

"Clients?"

"Some big-shot actor, though I shouldn't even be telling you that much."

"And you think Willow is just the person for the job?"

"Do you _know _anyone more responsible? I mean, my reputation's on the line too here. Do you know what an in it would be if I recommend her and it works out? The way I figure, as long as she stays away from magic we're all set. I mean, she gets a vacation and some extra spending money, the house gets watched, and I get someone fun up here who I don't need to make excuses to about my job." 

They had to admit, all in all it sounded like a fairly good idea. She was sure convincing the red-head at the center of her plans would be just as simple.

Part II.

"No? What do you mean no? Do you know how many girls would _kill_ for this opportunity?" The brunette was dumbfounded at her friend's refusal of the invitation.

"Then why don't you ask one of them?" She sighed, immediately regretting snapping at her friend, "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, I just can't." Willow's voice was laced with sadness as she thought about the many reasons she couldn't accept.

"I'm not asking anyone else because you're going to do it. You need this. Don't forget, I've lived my share of years on the hellmouth too."

Willow thought of all the reasons why she couldn't. Truthfully, she didn't have quite the number of responsibilities she used to. She hadn't enrolled back into school after she dropped out when Buffy died. She didn't have a job either. She didn't even help out as much with research or watching Dawn since she started recovering from her… problem. But there it was, in big glowing neon letters, the reason she couldn't go.

"I can't be trusted by myself. It's been thirty-nine days, but in some ways it feels like an hour hasn't even passed by. What if I slip?"

"You won't slip, for one, I've never known anyone stronger then you. Besides, maybe some alone time is exactly what you need to. Not that you'd really be alone, I'd be ten minutes away if you needed me." She paused a moment before adding the closer, "If you're really committed to beating this, it would make sense to get out of Sunnydale. I mean it **is** the Hellmouth after all. Alcoholics don't try to sober up in New Orleans, do they?"

She was right, not about the New Orleans thing, she wasn't sure where that came from, but right about the Hellmouth calling out to her. It was like a constant reminder of what she was desperately trying not to think about. And it wasn't like she was moving away forever, right? A month isn't so long of a time. Everyone would understand, Buffy herself had briefly suggested the idea of a vacation a while back. Maybe this wasn't such an absurd idea.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Ok, I'll do it."

"Great! Rio's expecting you on the 9th, he wants to meet with you and go over some stuff."

"That's like two days away!"

"Yeah, well I better let you go so you can start packing, I'll have him call you with the details. You're not going to regret this!"

"I'm beginning to already-"

"Don't be so pessimistic. Oh, by the way. Faith's been released from prison and moved in with Angel. Bye!" Cordelia shut off the phone before the redhead could reply and stared at it in her hands, willing it not to ring. When she was satisfied that her stunned friend would not be calling her back demanding answers, she placed the cordless phone into it's cradle and hummed a merry tune as she turned to go up to bed. That wasn't too hard.

Part III:

Willow's residual doubts about the issue receded monumentally at her friends' easy acceptance of her announcement. Not that they didn't assure her of how much she would be missed, but they had come to a general consensus that this would be the best thing for their troubled comrade. She also caught the relief they tried to keep out of their voices at the idea of her impromptu vacation. So with that easing her mind, it was with a much lighter heart that she answered the phone for what would be the second significant conversation in as many days. 

"Willow Rosenberg?"

"Yes, this is she."

"This is Rio Cruz. You were recommended to me through Cordelia Chase."

"Oh, yeah. She said you'd call."

"Good, you know the what, that'll save time and time is one thing in my business that isn't cheap."

"Business?"

"I'm an agent. It's one of my clients that you'll actually be working for, I'm merely taking care of the details as he's far too busy." 

"I see."

"He's a very important client as well, so you must understand why I'm critical of who I select for this job. The application process is usually much more exhaustive but this is an emergency. The lazy good-for-nothing lout that was your predecessor left suddenly leaving us in a lurch."

"What happened?"

"He got himself shot! I trust I can expect more from you. In any event, as we are pressed for time I'm basing much of this on Cordelia Chase's recommendation. Still, I'd like to interview you to hopefully validate my faith in her, as well as give me a chance to answer any questions you might have and negotiate a number."

"Sounds good."

"You'll receive a package tomorrow morning with all the information as well as plane tickets. I've booked you on a flight in the early afternoon. I suggest you get familiar with the information during your flight so we can discuss it when you arrive. I'm afraid I have to let you go now. I'll see you tomorrow Ms. Rosenberg."

He hung up before she could say anything else, something she desperately hoped wasn't going to become a habit. She tried to go over what exactly he had said to her, as he talked so fast and so much she had had problems just trying to keep up with the conversation, never mind voicing the several concerns and questions she had. She supposed some of them would be addressed in the package she was to receive the following day, and what was left she could ask him in person later. It was with mixed feelings though, that she slipped between the sheets of her bed to wait for morning. 

*


	2. An Unlikely Trio

Title: Louisville Slugger (2/?)

Author: See Jane Conform

E-mail: Hurri-Jane@juno.com --- (ok, one of the reasons this wasn't out a lot sooner is that my e-mail address was giving me all sorts of trouble, I finally just got a new one until I can work out what's wrong with my other one, thus for a while I might be posting under two different addy's)

Category: BtVS/WWE 

Pairing: Willow/Matt Hardy 

Disclaimer: I don't own or have any affiliation with BtVS or the WWE. This is being written for the sole purpose of enjoyment and I am in no way making a profit from it. 

Rating: This is a hard one since I'm not actually done with the story, but I'm going for a strong PG-13 as it deals with some adult situations and there **might** be some language in it. If the rating looks to change at any time I'll clearly make note of it.

Spoilers: None really for the WWE as it's not taking too much part in it, for BtVS it's up to season 6. I watched the episodes all out of order so I'm not too sure how far into this takes place. Like, you know the episode with Buffy's birthday party? Anything up to there is fair game. 

Summary: Willow's house sitting for a certain yummy male wrestler and chaos ensues. (emphasis on **chaos**)

Notes: Most of the questions brought up in this chapter will be answered in the next couple installments, so if things don't make sense… they will probably be explained soon. 

Chapter Two:

"So I get there and the line is like out the door! Now I've never been fond of lines personally, but I wait like any other good law-abiding citizen, which this time happened to be behind a large man with -might I add- a really bad B.O. problem. Anyway, I *finally* get to the front of the line and what do they tell me? That they're *out* of the jumbo blueberry muffins. As if that wasn't depressing enough, then the little ingrate tells me that I can *wait* if I'd like. Wait! The nerve of the guy! Just what exactly did he think I was doing for the past twenty minutes?" Cordelia ended her rant with a huff, ignoring the fact that the other occupants of the room weren't actually listening. 

"I guess I'm being helpful-girl already then." The newcomer announced her presence while holding up a brown bag. "Jumbo blueberry muffins," she offered as way of explanation.

"Willow!" The seer jumped up from where she had been perched on the edge of a desk to embrace the former-witch. The hug also put her in the position to catch the delicious aroma emanating from the bag. She quickly released the girl and instead grabbed the bag from her friend's grasp. "Oh, you remember Faith right?" She questioned around a bite of muffin.

Willow snorted at Cordelia's downplay of her previous encounters with the renegade slayer. "Yeah."

Faith for her part looked uncharacteristically nervous. The simple "Hey," she offered the young woman she had once turned on was filled with uncertainty. 

"Hey yourself." There was a long awkward moment, filled only with the sound of Cordelia's chewing, as each tried to reconcile their memories of the other with the people they had become. Willow seemed to reach a decision first and broke the silence. "You look... sane." As ambiguous as the comment was, it did much to reassure the reformed 'baddie', because beyond the words, she knew she was being offered a chance. 

"It's nice to see you again Willow," said Wesley, trying to remind the women that he was present in the room also. 

"You too," she offered him a small smile before spying the last member of their impromptu reunion enter the office. "Angel!"

"Hello Willow." The two hugged briefly, and she noted, not for the first time, that he pleasantly lacked the smell of decaying flesh.

"Ok," Cordelia resumed charge once she had ate her fill of muffin, "Now that everyone's here, we got you a little something." She pulled the present out from behind the desk but used her body to keep it hidden for a moment more.

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything!" Despite her protest, Willow was touched.

"Nonsense, its just a little housewarming gift! It's from all of us." The seer handed her a long heavy object wrapped in green shiny foil paper. "Go on, open it."

Willow tore the paper off, trying to keep the smile on her face despite her befuddlement. 

"You *really* shouldn't have..."

"It's a bat!" Cordelia told her helpfully.

"It's not just any bat, it's a Louisville Slugger." Faith added her input.

"Oh, thank you."

Cordelia misread Willow's confusion for disappointment and was quick to shift the blame. "It was Faith's idea."

"Yeah, well I just figured since you were going to be all alone in that big house..."

"You got me a bat to protect myself?"

Angel broke in to help explain, not missing Faith's eyes pleading with his own, "Well of course hopefully you'll not need to use it. It's to remind you that were all here for you if anything happens, and it's to give you a little peace of mind."

"Hell yeah, it's two and a half pounds of solid oak peace of mind," said Faith more confident after Angel's explanation. She eyed the misty eyed girl in front of her warily. "You're not going to hug me or anything are you? Because I'm really not a huggy type of girl and oh-" The recent parolee suddenly found herself with an armful of redhead, "Well ok, but let's not make a habit of this." 

Willow pulled back to look at her; "You're full of surprises. Thank you."

"Let's not forget the girl who got you this cushy job." Cordelia, in typical Cordelia style, interrupted the moment to bring herself back to everyone's attention.

"Cushy?" The witch raised an eyebrow, "Are you kidding? I've got a whole binder full of things I have to do every day! I have to feed the fish and water the plants, run the cars, get the mail..." she laughed at the expression on her friend's face. "The house *is* beautiful, and I can't tell you how much I need this right now. Thank you Cordelia."

"Why don't you girls go out for the day. Shop or whatever you do. Anything comes along I'll page you." 

The three girls rushed out of the office before Angel could change his mind. And that was how the unlikely trio's friendship started.

***

Where was he?

His eyes snapped open and slowly focused on a plain white ceiling. Some part of him vaguely connected the insistent ringing that had awoken him to a telephone, but where was it? 

His head rolled to one side to face a beige wall with a single picture hung on it. Even in his disoriented state the tackiness of the printed painting couldn't escape him. 

His head rolled to the other side to find the source of his growing headache: a solitary object on the standard bedside table. 

Propping himself up on his elbow, he used his other arm to reach across his body and pick up the cheap plastic phone.

"Good morning Mr. Hardy. This is your six o' clock wake-up call." 

The voice, so annoyingly chipper, blended into the other thousand voices he'd heard at the other thousand hotel rooms he'd been to. It was a different one, but it was all the same. 

"Thanks," he managed to whisper into the phone, his voice hoarse with sleep. He hung up the phone and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes barely noted his surroundings, so desensitized to the look of hotel rooms. 

He wasn't missing anything, nothing ever changed. 

He stood, freeing himself from the blankets and sheets -he hated hotel sheets- and stretched, letting the artificial cold of the small humming air-conditioning unit assault his bare body. 

He hated hotel air-conditioning and the metallic taste it seemed to add to the air. 

He pulled the curtains away from the solitary window to try and gain some clue as to which city he was in, but could see nothing but a near empty parking lot. With a sigh he let the curtains fall back to cover the small opening, and entered the cramped bathroom. 

He hated hotel bathrooms. 

He splashed cold water onto his face, trying to shake off sleep's clutch and put some sort of life into his drained body. His hands stilled in their movements as his eyes caught onto their reflection in the mirror.

"You're getting too old for this," he whispered to the two-dimensional image in front of him. 

Unbidden, a childhood memory came to his mind of a book someone used to read to him. 

A hope born of desperation swelled within him, as one hand reached out to meet it's twin. 

And for a moment, just a brief pause in his hectic life, he thought he could do it. For that one moment he truly believed that in another inch his fingers would go past the physical, into another world. It didn't matter what that world held, because lately it seemed as if anything would be better then his own... 

The moment passed and his fingertips met the cold surface of the mirror. He withdrew his hand immediately, feeling foolish, and wrote it off as a momentary delusion from his still sleep-addled brain. This wasn't any looking glass. It was just a cheap mirror in a cheap hotel in his cheap life. 

The anonymous hotel rooms never changed, and neither it seemed, would he. 

Magic had no place in his world. 

***

The three girls slipped into a booth at IHOP. The so-called International House of Pancakes had quickly become their choice of hangout as much for the yummy pancakes as the fact that it was open twenty-four hours a day. It was, at the moment, nearing to three in the morning but the restaurant was still pretty full.

"So what do you actually know about this guy your house-sitting for anyway?" Faith asked Willow.

"Well his name's Mathew Hardy..." 

The two girls looked expectantly at the third.

"And?" Cordelia prodded when the redhead said nothing more.

"That's about it."

"You've been living in this guy's house for two weeks and that's all you know about him?" Both Faith and Cordelia seemed doubtful. 

"The house is fully furnished and decorated, but beyond that there's nothing. I swear it looks more like a show room then someone's home. There isn't one photograph or personal touch in the whole place. I wouldn't even know his name if his 'agent' hadn't let it slip," explained Willow.

"Seems kind of suspicious. Maybe we should get Angel to look into it-"

"No!" Willow was quick to put a stop to that suggestion, "If this is baddy-related I don't want to know. At least not until the month is up," she amended.

"Are y'all ready to order?" The waitress's arrival put a stop to the conversation, as the friends took turns ordering. 


	3. Thwack

Title: Louisville Slugger (3/?)
    
    Author: See Jane Conform

E-mail: Hurri-Jane@juno.com --- (ok, my e-mail address was giving me all sorts of trouble, I finally just got a new one until I can work out what's wrong with my other one, thus for a while I might be posting under two different addy's)

Category: BtVS/WWE 

Pairing: Willow/Matt Hardy 

Disclaimer: I don't own or have any affiliation with BtVS or the WWE. This is being written for the sole purpose of enjoyment and I am in no way making a profit from it. 

Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive.

Rating: This is a hard one since I'm not actually done with the story, but I'm going for a strong PG-13 as it deals with some adult situations and there **might** be some language in it. If the rating looks to change at any time I'll clearly make note of it.

Spoilers: None really for the WWE as it's not taking too much part in it, for BtVS it's up to season 6. I watched the episodes all out of order so I'm not too sure how far into this takes place. Like, you know the episode with Buffy's birthday party? Anything up to there is fair game. 

Summary: Willow's house sitting for a certain yummy male wrestler and chaos ensues. (emphasis on **chaos**)

Notes: ok, there's some action in this one (finally). I rewrote it like three different times because I couldn't quite figure out how to handle it. It sort of jumps back and forth from Matt to Willow so let me know if it's confusing or if you like it or what your favorite food is… seriously, I heart feedback. 

Chapter Three:

For the third time, Matt swiped his keycard through the locking mechanism on the door and was denied. 

The glare he sent the red light that was blinking mockingly at him was more wary then scary. 

It was taunting him. He knew it. 

Nerves shot, his hand shook as he passed the card through again, holding his breath as he waited to see the tiny green bulb light. 

The red light came on again and he gave the door a sharp kick, unfortunately doing more to bruise his leg then anything else. 

The tiny red bulb blinked its laughter at him. 
    
    Just one more thing to add to his growing list of reasons he hated hotels.

"Hey man, you coming with?"

Matt was grateful for the interruption when he turned to see Shane Helms coming out of a room a couple doors down the hall.

"Where?" He asked, used to his friend's personality quirks enough to know that he hadn't missed anything. Shane often seemed to confuse what he was thinking with what he was saying, causing irregular conversation jumps and overall confusion. 

"Were you planning on spending a night in LA *sleeping*? Wake up, dude, we're going to par-tay." Shane slid on his black sunglasses and affected a surfer-dude accent. 

Matt had no desire to do anything but climb in bed and fall asleep, but casting another glance at the jeering lock on the door, he knew he didn't want to spend another night alone in a hotel room either. He weighed his options, trying to determine the lesser evil when something that his friend had said finally caught his attention.

"Wait, we're in LA?"

"City of Angels." Shane confirmed.

Matt smiled, the first _real_ smile in a long time, and grabbed Shane's face, kissing him hard on the cheek before taking off down the hallway.

"Hey!" Shane called out once he got over his momentary shock, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home!" Matt stepped onto the elevator and let the doors close on his friend's confusion. 

"Hey Matt. What was that all about?"

He looked over at Shannon Moore, the only other occupant in the elevator.

"I'm going home." He repeated, bouncing slightly on his toes. "I'm going to be sleeping in _my bed_, in _my room_, in _my house_ tonight!"

"That's great, but aren't you kind of out-of-state for that?"

"Nope." He gave Shannon a cheeky grin but didn't elaborate.

"Ok Matt, spill."

"What? I bought a house in LA a while ago, sort of an impulse buy."

"You bought a house," Shannon seemed doubtful, "on an impulse buy?"

"Yup." He waited another moment before he decided to enlighten his friend, "I was sick of all the hotel rooms and I figured it was time I got my own place. North Carolina will always be home, but you know, I needed a place for myself. Rio handled all the details, all I really had to do was sign on the dotted line."

"Cool man, I still can't believe I didn't know about it though."

"Hey, tomorrow why don't you come on over and I'll show you the place. Bring Shane and we'll barbecue or something."

"So why are you going there tonight? It's already close to midnight. Wouldn't it be easier just to stay here and go over in the morning?" 

Matt's smile dimmed only for a moment, "I don't think I can handle another hotel room tonight."

The elevator dinged and let the two men out into the lobby. They parted ways as Matt ran outside to hail a cab. It was only once he got in and the driver looked at him expectantly that he realized the flaw in his plan. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly dialed his agent's home phone number.

"Hey, it's Matt. Where exactly is my house again?"

***

Willow awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open. A quick glance at the clock by her bed told her she hadn't been asleep more then an hour or so. Her ears strained against the silence, trying to gain some clue as to what had woken her, but the house remained mute, the only sound she could hear was her own breathing.

She tried to shake off the uneasiness she felt and relax, but her body stubbornly stayed alert. One hand reached to touch the baseball bat she kept by her bed, the cool wood reassuring under her fingertips. Not for the first time, she was thankful for her friends' thoughtful gift. She'd had no reason to use it, but it was comforting to keep it close. 

Despite the fact that she was listening for it, the soft thud still startled her. She gasped loudly before quieting quickly, experience telling her not to give away her position yet. 

She slid out of bed, ignoring the slippers beneath her and instead let her bare feet hit the soft carpet knowing she had better mobility and stealth without the fuzzy bunnies on her feet. Her hands itched to call on the magic coursing through and around her, her mind tried to justify it's use with the danger of the situation. Instead she reached for the bat, giving her hands something to occupy them. She was gripping it so tightly her knuckles were turning white, but she wasn't sure if it was fear or temptation that tightened them so. 

Her eyes caught sight of the phone lying within arms reach of her. She might never know if it was foolishness or courage that made her walk by it without using it to call for help, but she supposed it had to be a mixture of both. 

Shifting the comforting weight of the bat slightly, she opened the door and crept into the hallway to find the source of the noise.

*

Matt cursed as he hit his shin against an invisible table. 

Whose idea was it to put sharp corners on furniture anyway? He made a mental note to put foam over every edge in the damn house. 

He rubbed his shin, trying to rub away the pain with it. It was one thing to be body slammed by a three hundred pound giant, it was quite another to be attacked by razor sharp wood. At least he assumed the table was made out of wood, by the way his leg was throbbing it could have been steel. Of course he'd be able to find out exactly what the table was made of if he could find a damn lamp in this place! As much as he hated hotels, he had to grudgingly admit that their uniform layout was convenient. 

His hand returned to the task that he had assigned to it -before he had been blindsided by the evil furnishing- searching for a light. He tried clapping his hands, in a vain attempt to activate a clap-on lamp he evidently didn't own. 

Was it possible that he didn't have any electricity? 

The only real specifications he had told Rio was that he had wanted a house that would be ready for him when he needed it, but he hadn't exactly given any advance notice of *when* he would be needing it.

The inky blackness was starting to creep him out. He couldn't see anything. The darkness seemed almost threatening. Not the feeling he was expecting when he came home for the first time. 

Was that footsteps that he had heard? 

He shot down the notion immediately. Now he was just paranoid. He attributed the irrational fear to lack of sleep. Groping the wall, he finally found a switch.

He sighed with relief as warm light flooded the room. 

Then everything went black.

*

Willow dropped the bat, the loud clattering harsh in the otherwise silent room. 

Shock froze her in place.

She did it.

She gasped as the fear that had been choking her relented and she greedily gulped in air. Her heart was still pounding violently in her chest when she regained control of her limbs and took a couple steps backwards, inching away from the man she had felled with one powerful blow. 

Well that wasn't quite as difficult as she anticipated. 

In fact, it was rather simple. Someone broke into the house. So she clobbered him with a baseball bat. All in all, the situation seemed almost too easy. The reality seemed anti-climatic when compared to the terrible scenarios that had run through her head since she had first woken. She tried to bite down on the knowledge that in her life, whenever something seemed too easy, it usually was. 

She just needed to remember that this wasn't the hellmouth. This wasn't a demon or apocalypse. It was just a stupid human trying to commit a stupid crime.

Rationally she knew before she did anything more she should call the police, but the ease with which she handled the situation gave her a bit of arrogance. That, and the fact that something seemed wrong to her. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about it seemed off. 

The man was lying on his stomach, so she couldn't see his face, but what she could tell of him didn't exactly fit with her profile of the average stereotypical robber. Where was his ski mask? Where was the crow bar? He was wearing a fluffy blue fleece pullover and jeans. Not quite the intimidating outfit she would have picked for some good old fashion breaking and entering. In fact, if she had met him under different circumstances, he looked more like a guy she'd be likely to hug, then one she'd bash over the head. 

She frowned as she saw the slight bulge in one of his back pockets that could only be a wallet. It was another thing that didn't fit. Why would anyone bring their wallet when they were up to some middle of the night larceny? It didn't seem that smart, but she supposed thievery didn't take much intelligence. 

Curiosity overwhelmed her doubts, and she warily pulled the wallet from his pocket, keeping her eyes trained on his prone form. When he didn't move, she once more backed away to a safe distance. She hesitated a moment before opening it. It seemed like an invasion of privacy to snoop through his wallet while he lay unconscious on the floor. It was only a moment of hesitation though, because she quickly justified that he didn't the right to any privacy since **he** was the one the broke into the house in the first place. She snickered over the awful drivers license picture for a moment before scanning the information on the card. The blood drained from her face as she read the name. She tried to calculate the odds of the burglar having the same name as her boss before the full extent of the situation clicked. 

She scrambled to her boss's side and rolled him onto his back. His eyes were closed and his face looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Her glance fell onto his motionless chest. She wasn't sure how long she stared at it, willing it to rise and fall and prove to her he really was just sleeping, but it remained still. When the reality of what she was seeing, or not seeing, struck her, she scrambled away from him in horror. She was white as a ghost when she pulled the phone from its cradle and dialed a number she knew by heart. 

"Faith? It's Willow.... I think I just killed my boss."


	4. Double Vision

Title: Louisville Slugger
    

Author: See Jane Conform

Category: BtVS/WWE 

Pairing: Willow/Matt Hardy - (eventually, it sure seems like I'm taking long enough! feel free to yell at me)

Disclaimer: I don't own nor have any affiliation with BtVS or the WWE. This is being written for the sole purpose of enjoyment and I am in no way making a profit from it. 

Rating: As of yet it's still nothing over a PG-13
    
    Spoilers: None really for the WWE as it's not taking too much part in it, for BtVS it's up to season 6. I watched the episodes all out of order so I'm not too sure how far into this takes place. Like, you know the episode with Buffy's birthday party? Anything up to there is fair game.
    

Story Summary: Willow house sits for a yummy male wrestler; chaos ensues.

Chapter Summary: More of the chaos.

Feedback: I write for myself, but I post for the feedback!

Notes: So yeah… taking me longer then I thought to get to the actual **romance** part of the fic! School started up again this week which explains why middle of the week updates will be few if any. I'll try to get off a chapter or two a weekend until I finish this baby! Oh, and guess who's going to see Edge at an autograph signing in a couple weeks? Me! Yup, no shows like ever come near me but at least there's that….

*******Previous parts can be found at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=945630 ***

Chapter Four: part I

"Willow, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened."

The line was silent for a moment as the party on the other end sucked in deep breaths of air.

"I heard something -it woke me up... I thought he was a burglar. I hit him in the head... with a bat... Faith, he's...he's not moving."

Now it was the other line that was silent as its user thought it through.

"Everything is going to be fine. I'll handle it. I'll handle everything, just don't touch him. I'll be over as fast as I can."

It took Willow a moment of listening to the dial tone sound in her ear before she thought to hang up the phone. She had to trust that Faith would know what to do. 

How weird did that sound? 

She tried not to panic, but every time she'd start to calm down she'd catch sight of the body lying in the middle of the living room and she'd lose it again. The small part of her that was still thinking rationally told her she probably shouldn't leave the body, but currently the part of her that was in control was freaking out. Repeating a rather ineffectual mantra of "Out of sight, out of mind," she escaped into the front foyer to wait for her friend. It was close to twenty minutes of frenzied pacing before help arrived.

***

Part II

***

"What am I going to do?" 

"Nothing. You didn't do anything; you don't know anything. Ok?" she peered into watery green eyes, searching for confirmation that her words had been understood. "Where is the body?"

Willow used one hand to gesture to the room off to one side, but firmly kept her eyes glued straight ahead. The arm she was using to point was shaking; the other was tightly wrapped around her middle. 

"Everything's going to be cool." Faith gave one last look at the pale redhead, unsure if she was doing the right thing by leaving Willow alone. Not happy with her choice, but convinced that she knew more about handling dead bodies then offering comfort, she walked past Willow and into the room with the body. 

Faith emerged from the room immediately. "Is this some sort of sick joke? Because maybe prison warped my sense of humor, but I'm not finding this funny."

"What are you talking about?" Willow was only half listening, still in too much shock to do anything but try not to cry.

"There isn't any body in there."

*That* Willow heard crystal clear.

"What are you talking about?" She pushed past Faith to look into the room, "The bodies right-" She gestured to the empty place on the carpet where she had last seen her boss. "No," she shook her head, "no, he was lying right there."

"What's-"

"We have to get out of here, Faith. Now!" Motivated by fear, Willow's endorphins kicked in and she grabbed her friend's arm, trying to pull her out of the room. The brunette easily pulled her limb from the much weaker girl's grasp. "I'm serious Faith, we need to leave. Trust me, I saw "I Know What You Did Last Summer". This is bad. This is *very* very bad. We've got some crazy super-human -I mean, normal people don't get up after something like that- running around who's probably not too happy with me for bashing his skull in!"

"Willow, take a deep breath. We can handle this. Now tell me exactly what happened."

***

Part III

***

Matt's head hurt. 

Bad.

In fact, it hurt so badly that he couldn't even think of a suitable adjective to describe the pain. It felt like someone had taken a steel chair to his head, which he might've considered a possibility if it wasn't for the lack of screams that let him know he wasn't at any arena. 

The worst part of getting knocked unconscious was waking up. He had half the mind to just lay where he was, but the pain was getting steadily worse so he reluctantly opened his eyes and pulled himself to his feet. He tried to remember what exactly had put him in his current position or at least who, but the hurt was starting to cloud his mind. His body working on auto-pilot, he left the room he was in to search for some aspirin. 

It was several twists and turns before he stumbled upon a kitchen. Giving up on any hope of finding aspirin, he filled up a small kitchen towel with ice and pressed it against the back of his head. As the coldness started to do its work in numbing the hurt, he tried to figure out what exactly happened. He had to have been attacked from behind, that much was obvious. What were less then obvious was how long he had been out, and whether or not his attacker was still in the house. 

Feeling adventurous, he took the opposite door out of the kitchen instead of retracing his steps. Maybe he was just being stubborn, but he had spent enough nights away from home- no coward was going to chase him from his bed. 

The only thing that would keep him from his bed was his own bad sense of direction. 

The room off of the kitchen was a nice sized dining room, and after that was a formal living room. He was beginning to think that the house was far too big for just him. The formal living room had two openings other then the one he entered it from. One looked to head into a study/library; the other led him to the front opening of the house. He must have somehow circled through the outer rooms. 

It wasn't until he stepped into the elegantly done front foyer that he first heard the voices. They were too low for him to make out the words, but it sounded distinctly female. His curiosity was too great to ignore and he followed the noise to the doorway of an adjacent room. Two attractive women stood facing each other. The redhead was facing him and he could see her gesturing with her hands. She seemed to be explaining something. The brunette was standing in front of her, with her back to him. Neither seemed to notice his presence. Not seeing either one as much of a threat, he took a couple steps into the room towards the two women and called out to get their attention. He never saw the fluid movement in which the darker haired girl spun around or the limb that connected with his face. In fact, the only thing he saw was darkness- for the second time that night. 


	5. Job Security

__

A/N: ack! I know it's been ages, sorry about that. A new fic distracted me. Bad Jane, bad! Let me know what you think!

Louisville Slugger

by SJC

"Willow, I hate to say it- but I think you might want to consider looking for a new job."

The redhead snorted, shock momentarily paralyzing all senses except amusement. 

"Getting fired is the least of my concerns, I'll consider myself lucky if the guy doesn't press charges." Another thought pushed it's way to the forefront of her brain, bringing a dismayed countenance in tow; "Cordelia is going to kill me!"

"Maybe she won't find out?" Faith offered more for comfort then any real hope. It was futile to try and keep anything from their nosy friend. 

The two girls stood in silence for a moment, staring at the prone body. Inquisitively, Faith nudged his side with her foot but he remained unresponsive.

"You know, he really isn't a bad looking guy." 

"I suppose," Willow shrugged, "as far as unconscious guys go."

The redhead took her turn jostling the man with a foot, but was met with an equal lack of success in rousing any reaction.

"He's really out cold Faith, how hard did you hit him?"

The brunette made an indefinable gesture. "I barely tapped him."

Willow merely raised an eyebrow.

"It still shouldn't have been hard enough to knock him out, though this _is_ the second time he's been bludgeoned this evening." Faith shot back in answer to her knowing look. Willow sighed and knelt down next to her boss, mechanically checking for injuries. She pulled back one hand back from behind his head after discovering the sticky warmth she was much too familiar with. "No," Faith protested as she caught sight of the incriminating hand, "I didn't hit him that hard. I couldn't have-"

"You didn't." Willow nodded at the sharp edge of the nearby table, "he must have hit his head on that as he fell. We need to call a doctor."

"We _need_ to get out of here."

"Faith! We can't leave him here like this. Are you insane?"

"Look Willow, I've spent my time behind bars. It wasn't fun. I'm not fancying a repeat performance any time soon."

"This man could be seriously hurt. The wound doesn't look that bad, but we won't know for certain until he wakes up- if he wakes up. Help me move him to his bed." Willow's imploring green eyes did more in way of persuasion then her words and Faith found herself reluctantly agreeing. 

"Fine," she grumbled as she picked up one end of the large man, "but I'm not liking this."

They half dragged half carried the man to an adjacent guestroom, and deposited him on the bed. Willow flicked the light on and checked that they hadn't aggravated his injury at all in the move. She let out a sigh of relief at her discovery that the wound was mainly superficial. Providing he didn't have a concussion, he should be fine. 

"I'm going to stay with him to make sure he gets through the night." 

"You mean _we're_ going to stay with him. I'm not leaving you alone here, this is as much my mess as it is yours." The slayer argued.

"No, it's not. My name is on at least a half dozen papers that I signed when I accepted this gig. Yours isn't. They'd trace this to me in any case. You're still on probation, you can't afford to get tangled up in this."

"I'm not leaving you." She repeated.

"Just go, I can handle myself. I don't want you to get in trouble too."

"Red-"

"For once can't you just do what I ask? Go, Faith." She put on her trusty resolve face and the matter was settled. After a quick promise that she'd call in the morning, Willow was left alone with her boss. 

Other then keeping the cut clean, there wasn't much for her to do besides wait- which she did, between small naps, until the morning came. 


	6. Hot Wild Monkey Sex

The shrill ring of the phone in the other wise still house jolted Willow out of the light rest she had settled into. She rubbed her eyes and simultaneously reached for the phone, knowing Faith would worry if she didn't answer. Her eyes settled briefly on a clock, noticing it wasn't quite nine in the morning.

"'ello'" she croaked, her voice hoarse with sleep.

"Hello? Who is this?" A voice that was quite definitely not Faith's questioned.

"Whose do you mean what's this called here?" Willow's normally endearing lack of sense-making was even further distorted into incoherent babbling by her muddled state.

"I'm sorry," the pleasant male voice laughed, "I think I have the wrong number."

"Ok, bye." She hung up the phone and had taken a step towards the kitchen in search of caffeine when the phone sounded again. She hesitantly put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

She had the awful feeling this was going to turn into a long morning.

"It's still the wrong number," she sighed, starting to feel more awake.

"Is there a Matt Hardy there by any chance?" The name worked as well as any mocha latte in springing her eyes wide open as she glanced to her motionless companion.

"Yes…" she answered truthfully, sensing that any lie would only further arouse the man's suspicions.

"Can I speak to him?"

"He's… not available right now. Maybe you could try again later?"

"Yeah… um, who _are_ you?"

"I'm Mr. Hardy's personal secretary." She crossed her fingers, hoping he'd believe the lie. She was a terrible actress, but she didn't have time to deal with any more complications.

"Matt doesn't have a personal secretary. He barely uses the one the company provides as it is." The line was silent as she tried to think of a plausible explanation, but was saved before it became necessary. "Oh, I get it. That bastard, no wonder he was in such a hurry to leave last night." The man laughed again, and in another situation she might have found herself growing to like the apparently easy-going guy. As it was though, she was merely confused.

"What?"

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what a girl is doing answering his phone this early in the morning." She got the distinct impression that had the mysterious man on the other end of the phone been there with her, he'd be subjecting her to a series of 'nudge nudge- wink wink's. 

"You think I'm his girlfriend? Oh! Yup, I am. You caught me. You sure are smart." She rolled her eyes at her horrid acting abilities. "Yeah, so now that you know I'm his girlfriend, I can tell you that we were in the middle of having hot, wild monkey sex so now isn't such a good time. But I'll tell him you called!"

"Whoa, too much information!" Once more, the man on the other end of the line wasn't doing anything to repress his laughter. "Just make sure Matt has his pants on by noon. I've seen enough of his hairy ass in the locker rooms to last me a life time."

"Noon?"

"Yeah, didn't he tell you? Were coming over to bar-be-cue! I got to let you go now- spank him once for me." A click signaled the end of the conversation and Willow slowly placed the phone back in its cradle. Her mind was racing in its attempt to make sense of the conversation. 

"Monkey sex, huh? I'm down with that."

The foreign voice intruding upon her thoughts startled her and she spun around to face her boss –now wide awake-looking much better then should be allowed for a man who had been knocked unconscious a few hours before. 

"You're awake!" Her relief at seeing him looking healthy was fading fast into a blind panic. 

***

He was trying to sit up in bed when pain exploded in his head. The pretty redhead whose conversation he had just overheard rushed over to hand him a glass of water and some aspirin. As the pain started to subside he found himself no less confused. The girl in front of him looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember from where. 

Something else was wrong too. 

An unfamiliar world came crashing down upon him.

"I have a question." He managed to form the simple sentence but was lost as how to ask the half formed thoughts threatening his sanity. 

"I figured you might." She sat down in a wingback chair near the bed, but didn't say anything more. He was thankful for the small gesture, as it allowed him to get his mind in some sort of order.

"If you're my girlfriend- who am I?"

Admitting the problem that had been nagging him since he first woke seemed to break the damn keeping the flood of other questions at bay. 

"And where am I? How did I get here? What happened?"

"Oh my goddess," the words were breathed so softly he almost questioned his hearing until she spoke again, louder. "You don't remember anything?"

He searched his mind, hard, hating the idea of disappointing her, but finally had to shake his head. He couldn't even recall his name. 

She moved from the chair to the side of the bed, his condition tugging on her already susceptible heartstrings. He mistook the guilt she felt for sympathy, and allowed himself to be comforted by her presence.

"Your name is Matthew Hardy, but you go by Matt." She seemed to be battling internally for a moment, before she spoke again, "And I'm Willow."

He struggled to sit up, this time ignoring the small flare of pain in his head. He wasn't entirely successful though, and the small wince that escaped was noticed by his companion.

"I should call a doctor."

He grabbed her arm as she moved to leave.

"Can you just stay and talk to me for a while first? I feel fine- really. I mean, besides the not knowing anything part."

Willow's face showed clearly how torn she was. "I really have to go, but some friends of yours are coming over. They'll be able to take care of you."

"Willow," he tried her name out, "you can't leave me like this."

"I wish I could stay," the insane thing was that she really _did_, "but I need to leave." 

She put on her undefeated resolve face to end the argument-

and for the first time in all her years it was ignored completely.

"Please Willow," his wide trusting eyes focused on hers, "you're all I know."


	7. The Beer Arrives

Louisville Slugger

by SJC

Willow, to put it mildly, was screwed. Even after she promised Matt that she would stay with him, she had still fully intended to leave before his friends arrived. It would have been a simple matter to convince him he needed to rest a bit, call a doctor and then leave before the situation was made any worse. It was one thing to accidentally bludgeon your boss –_twice_, but lying to an amnesiac was just inviting all sorts of unwanted complications. 

But her plan had slowly crumbled under warm eyes, heart-breaking vulnerability and his dangerous way of making her lose track of time and sense. Now she was beyond panicking as she peeked through the curtains to spy on the group exiting their vehicles and making their way to the door. It was barely eleven. She should have had another hour still! The knock on the door that soon followed defied her logic and forced her into action. 

"Uh, Hi?" She tried to sound casual as she opened the door to reveal two guys. 

"Hey, you must be the secret girlfriend I've heard so little about." Her attention fell to the first guy who spoke. He was carrying a case of beer in one hand and using the other to remove his sunglasses. "And you're a redhead." He glanced at his companion with a smile, "What a surprise."

"Ignore him," the second man spoke up. He was carrying a plastic grocery bag that looked to be filled with a couple bags of chips. "Everybody does." He shifted the bag to offer his hand. "I'm Shannon and that nut is Shane." 

"Oh, um, I'm Willow." She volunteered. 

"Alright, now that introductions are over, show me to the grill!" The first man- Shane, slid past her into the house and the other followed him with a slight eye roll.

"Actually- um, wait!" She shut the door and ran to catch up with them as they started exploring the house. "Look. Now is really not a good time for this. Matt's not feeling well. I was just about to call a doctor-"

"A doctor? Why?" The news had finally gotten their attention and she led them back to the front foyer. 

"We're um, not sure what happened, but he appears to have somehow fallen and hit his head."

"He bumped his head? That's all? Man, you had me worried for a minute. Matt's used to that. Heck, I can't remember the last time he didn't get hit with something." Shane didn't seem the least bit worried and a quick glance at Shannon confirmed that he was speaking the truth. 

"It's more then just that. There's some memory damage."

"What are you trying to say?" Shannon broke in.

"He doesn't know who he is."

"Wait, start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened." 

"Um, you want to know what happened? Right, of course." Willow wracked her brain for a way to reorder the previous night's events without implicating herself in anything that would result in causing the two muscular men in front of her any reason to want to hurt her. "I'm not really sure what exactly happened last night. He was fine when he called to let me know that he was here. And when I came over early this morning, I found him on the floor. I looked him over but it didn't look like anything more then a bump on the head. So I moved him to the bed and before I could do anything more he had started to wake up. That was right about the time I believe one of you called?" Shane nodded his head in affirmation. "He seemed fine until he realized he lost his memory. We've been arguing over calling a doctor since then."

"That's Matt for you. I guess he didn't lose his aversion to doctors when he lost his memory."

"Yeah," she tried to force a smile. "But now that you guys are here you can strong arm him into getting taken care of! Now that I'm sure he's in good hands I really need to be going-"

"You can't leave now. Matt needs you."

"Yeah, but I really need to-"

"Willow, he must be so confused and scared right now. He needs us right now."

"Of course." She caved, sufficiently guilted into staying. "I'm going to go check on Matt and let him know you both are here, and you can um, call the doctor."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped from the two but it was short lived as she turned the corner and found Matt in the hallway.

"What are you doing? I told you that you had to rest until a doctor saw you. You get your butt back in bed!" She rushed to his side and tried to lead him back to the bedroom.

"As much as I love you trying to get me in bed," he laughed, "if rest is all you have in mind I'm going to have to protest."

"But no! You need your rest. You listen here, young man, I'm not going to let you jeopardize your health because-"

"Willow." He caught the small hands that were still trying to tug him back to the bedroom and held them between the two. "I know you're worried and I think you've been incredibly sweet taking care of me, but I'm fine." He caught her look and amended his statement, "Alright, so I have a slight memory problem. But other then that and a bit of a headache, I feel great. Really. So can you please let up on the nursemaid routine just a little bit?"

"Ok, but- you have to promise to take it easy and if you feel weak or dizzy or anything at all you will immediately let me know." She tried to look stern but it only made him smile. "Hey, I mean it buddy."

"I promise." He brought her hands to his mouth and placed a light kiss across her knuckles. "I may have lost the memory of whatever it was that brought you into my life, but I'm thankful for it all the same. You're amazing." He mistook the guilt that flashed across her face for concern and pulled her closer to him. "It's going to be fine. We'll get through this together."

She sniffled slightly and blinked back tears. "I know." She forced a cheery voice, "But you better stop all this mushy stuff before your boys out there hear you talking like that. They seem like the type that'd enjoy giving you a hard time."

He groaned, "Can't you just make them go away." He had dropped her hands and his now rested on her hips, tugging her to him. Hers rested lightly on his chest. "Going back to bed is starting to sound like a better idea." 

"Sorry, but I don't think they're going anywhere. They're just worried about you."

"And I'm sure I'd be really touched if I actually knew who they were."

"A couple hours ago you didn't know who I was either. Just meet them and let them see that you're ok. Maybe it'll trigger a memory." Of course at this point, she wasn't sure whether that would be a good thing or not. If he remembered before she left she would be caught, but at least she wouldn't have to keep up this insane charade. 

"Then let's get this over with." 

"That's the spirit!" She gave him a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. But inside she was doing all she could to fight the warm fuzzy feelings she was getting from her fake amnesiac boyfriend. 'Oh boy,' she thought, 'and I didn't want to deal with complications....' 


End file.
